Royal Care
by peachel
Summary: As requested by tumblr anon, a Dragozera fanfic. I took this opportunity to provide a social service. People tend to think that males' jobs are to protect women, be soldierly and never show vulnerable emotions. The amount of people that agree make me want to throw something. Men have emotions like everybody else and that does not make any less manly.
1. Chapter 1

by Rachel G.

If the stress of being the queen is ever overwhelming, I can always look forward to crawling into bed with Christian at the end of the day. He was already lying in bed when I cuddled in next to him. "How was your day?"

"I got to visit Aunt Tasha today."

I froze. After two months, Tasha was still a sensitive topic, which was reasonable considering she raised Christian from a young age after his parents willingly turned. The incident left people fearing Christian and casting him to the sidelines. Before me, Tasha had been the only person he had. But after she murdered the previous queen, she was being locked up and under serious security. I was surprised they even let him visit.

"How'd it go?" I asked.

He sighed. In a voice that was barely audible he said, "Heartbreaking."

I wrapped my arms around his neck and brought him closer to me. Sometimes I wish I could just hold him and protect him from the world. I kissed his head.

I realized then that he was holding something. It was a sterling silver bracelet that looked familiar.

Seeing me looking at it he told me "It was Aunt Tasha's."

"Oh, darling." I pressed him even tighter to me.

"Have I ever told you about my parents?" He asked me.

I shook my head. I never pressed the subject; I didn't even like talking about my own parents and they died without scandal.

"They loved me so much. Everything I wanted I got, they showered me with love." His eyes were watery and dangerously close to spilling out. "Sometimes I wonder how things would be different if they hadn't turned." His voice broke on the last part and he buried his face in my chest. I knew he was crying and stroked his luscious black hair.

After a while, he looked up and rubbed his swollen red eyes. "So how was your day?" He asked, clearly wanting to change the subject.

"Tiring. I just like lying here with you."

"You know I love you, right?"

I smiled. "I know babe. And I love you too." I leaned in and kissed him slowly on the mouth. He pulled me closer to him and let the kiss linger longer than I'd intended, but I wasn't complaining.

The kissing intensed and he got on top of me, holding my hip with one hand and my face with the other. "I need something to cheer me up," he breathed, his mouth so close to mine.

"I think I know how."

With a snap of his fingers, the lights went out and a dozen candles burned. The hand that had been on my hip slid under my shirt and up to my breast. His mouth left mine to kiss down to my neck, my collarbone, and then moving the fabric of my shirt, my other breast. I gasped.

We struggled to get our clothes off and when that task was done, I was on top of him, one leg on either side of him. As I went up and down, he moaned, "Lissa, Lissa," over and over again in the way I loved.

When we were done, we cuddled naked, our legs tangled together. Eventually, he fell asleep with his head rested on my arm. I watched his face, which was uncharacteristically relaxed. He usually looked tense and broken due to the cruel things people have said to him all his life. I hated thinking about it: I hated thinking about how lonely his childhood must have been, I hated thinking that even still people ignore him and tried to set me up with narcissistic royals. For the second time that night, I felt protective of him. I visited his dream.


	2. Chapter 2

We were in the place where Christian and I fell in love: the attic of St. Vladimir's church. I added a few changes to th dream though. For one, there wasn't dust. There was also a stereo resting against the wall.

Christian seemed surprised to see me. "Why the visit?"

I shrugged. "I missed you," I said with a smile.

He laughed. "So what's with the stereo?"

"I wanna go dancing." And with a press of a button, Frank Sinatra's "If I Had You" came on.

With a huge grin on his face, he stepped closer to me and grabbed my hand. He place his other hand on my hip, bring our bodies closer together. With my free hand on his shoulder, we started slow dancing. Our faces were so close together. I looked into those lovely blue eyes and I swear I saw so much love in them.

He spun me around then. I rested my head on his shoulder for the remainder of the song.

When the song ended, Billy Idol's "Dancing with Myself" immeidietly came on. We looked at each other and broke into laughter. We took each others' hands and started dancing around like idiots.

If we danced like this anywhere else, the press would never let us live it down. I could imagine the headlines: "Queen Dragomir and Boyfriend, Christian Ozera: Wild Party Animals" followed by nonsense of how I'm an unfit queen and he would make an awful king. Blah, blah, blah. But in these dreams it was just me and Christian, free from judging eyes; free to dance around like idiots.


End file.
